A World's Only Hope
by Princess Darkcloud
Summary: For Darkslayer18 These four beings are the last hope for a dying world, but when they are ripped away from it all just to be replaced with 4 regular boys from South Park, can their world really survive? Style Creek Bunny Candy. WARNING: cross dressing
1. Two Birds on a Wire

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Jake! I lub joo~

:D

-PD

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Chapter 1**

Dust, picked up by a burst of wind, swirled across an expanse of open desert. Several charred trees stood about with their long shadows stretching forever in the fading daylight, light that was becoming increasingly rare in this dying world. The trees, though dead, were a few of the last of their kind. They were the only remaining proof of the luscious greenery that had once covered the land that had long since reduced to nothing short of an arid wasteland. A band of travelers were slowly trekking through this hellish landscape, their bodies covered in white robes with matching white turbans covering their heads and hiding their faces. One rode upon one of the legendary (1)Areion as three others surrounded her on foot.

"Do you know how much further until we reach the city?" The largest of the men inquired from his place on the right of the woman on the Areion. His grandfather had been a giant and was, therefore, a quarter giant. He traveled with 6 pistols hanging off his hips; he also brandished two more guns, one at each breast. He tipped his large, black hat, one he refused to part with even while wearing the turban, so he could clearly look at the woman over the top of his tinted glasses.

She turned to him, not saying a word. "If we continue through the night without too many stops, we should reach the city by dawn." The man who traveled behind the Aerion answered, "You should know better than to ask anything of the lady. Your common ears cannot understand the speech of the Royals. Only the Middle Children can." This man proudly had his two-handed sword—a sword that was about as long as he was tall—strapped across his back.

"Well excuse me for not being a high and mighty 'Middle Child' like she is." The man with the guns pointed at a small blonde girl who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

"If we didn't need you I'd have killed you by now, Asshole." The man reached behind his head and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, preparing himself for a fight.

"Like you could, Straaten." The partial giant sneered and placed a hand upon one of his beloved pistols. The two men stopped in their tracks and faced each other, the two girls walking on ahead until they noticed the absence of their supposed protectors.

"I thought we were only to refer to one another by our surnames _Autome._"

"Luchtic, Straaten, oh…uh..sorry…Autome, Moeras, Puh-Please c-cease in your actions! W-We can't afford to be spotted now! We're so _close_." The Middle Child, Botere Schotse, pleaded. While these two men were strong, there were plenty of gangs around, plus they'd be traveling at night. The two men, Luchtic Autome and Straaten Moeras, withdrew their hands from their weapons and grunted; they were dissatisfied with having to, once again, make temporary peace. This exchange had become regular as tensions arose within their group. They had been traveling for over a week and it had been half as long since they'd seen a substantial meal. Not to mention that the men who were supposed to be a team strongly disliked one another, not quite to the point of hate just yet, but they were close.

The little blonde girl looked up at the red-headed Royal for a moment before she nodded in understanding. "'We must stop and wait till morning.' Is what my lady says."

"Hm? Why?" Straaten's black hair fell into his face when he turned to look at the Middle Child. He lifted a gloved hand under his turban to tuck it back behind his ear.

Botere looked up at her superior, awaiting an answer. "'It becomes dangerous up ahead. Many dangers we cannot see in the dark, it would be suicide.' Is what my lady says."

"Do you always have to end your translations with 'Is what my lady says'?" Autome imitated in a whiney, high-pitched voice. "It gets old after the first time. And who says that redheaded bitch gets to tell us what to do?"

"Wuh-Well, cause I'm supposed'tuh it's the rule that we Middle Children have to follow an— …'Shut the hell up, Fatass...How dare you disrespect me like that.' Is what my—"

"I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!" Botere jumped at the exclamation, tears sprining to her misty blue-green eyes. "I'm part giant; I'm supposed to be big! Quit laughing Moeras!"

"'Very well, we shall continue with our journey. Don't blame me if you die you retarded, over-weight pile of Gargoyle shit.' Is what my lady says. Ouch, th-that's awful harsh muh-my lady."

Straaten, who had been laughing until a moment ago, requested the group to stop. "Prepare yourself, Autome." He began to withdraw his sword, the fire of his fighting spirit burning within his eyes. His sword glowing a faint blue as his spirit turned into energy about him.

"What's the matter with you?" Autome dropped his face into a scowl and withdrew his guns, aiming them at Straaten's unprotected chest. "Still got some of this sand up your—"

"No you lumbering moron, look at what's ahead of you!" Straaten pointed to a group of shadowy figures before bringing his other hand to the hilt of his sword, preparing to defend the seemingly unshaken redhead behind him.

Autome squinted a little, trying to make out what they could be. He soon found that that wasn't necessary when a ball of violet light started glowing through the haze. "(2)ACHMA DAM—"

There was a flash of blinding light, and then all was silent save for the sounds of rustling cloth, muffled screams of protest, and straining ropes.

* * *

Stan was coughing now, trying to hide his laughter. "You would get cast as the giant in the play, Cartman."

"Well at least I'm not some fairy princess like the faggy jew-boy over here! He doesn't even get any lines!"

"Shut up you miserable tub of lard! You _know_ there weren't enough girls in our class for all the parts! Besides, Butters was cast as a girl too!"

"Wuh-Well, bein a girl is a lot harder than you'd think!"

The four boys, who were now 17, were walking home from high school, as they had missed the bus that day. This was incredibly unfortunate as their high school was a good 2-hour walk from South Park.

"It's not like we were legitimately cast. There _are_ only three Junior classes and each class was assigned to a different part of the production. Would you rather be on prop and costumes or some boring shit like that?" Stan commented from the side. He usually stayed out of arguments unless he saw a good time to intervene and cool things down between Kyle and Cartman, which was always 'fun.'

"Oh, shut up Stan, you're just saying that cause you have a cool part." Kyle was still sore about being cast as the princess in some hokey sounding play. The only cool part would be the costumes and set design done by the other two groups in the Junior year. (They're school way so small that there were only 3 classes worth of kids in each year.) Jesus and Satan were helping out and were going to use their powers to whip up some 'really sick shit' for the play. Or so they were told.

"Hey guys, do you see that?" Stan asked. It was foggy that day so they could only see about 100 feet in front of them.

Sadly, it was nowhere near enough time for the gang to escape from their impending doom.

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**Author's Note**

(1)**Areion**: mythical creature; an incredibly fast horse with a green mane and the abilities of human speech  
(2) Achma, in their wold, that's their god. if it's a real word, then you can throw stuff at me for my ignorance v.v;

Ok, Pronunciations:  
Luchtic (LOO -*phlegm noise*- tic)  
Autome (OW – toh - may)  
Straaten (STRAH – ten)  
Moeras (Mo – AIR – rahs)  
Botere (BOW - tair)  
Schotse (SKOHT - tsee)

I KNOW that it was late, I have a reason for my tardiness in my profile. It doesn't make me feel any better though…but anyway:

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

-PD


	2. One Tries to Fly Away

**Chapter 2**

Stan opened his eyes only to find himself tied up in some junkie's basement. The smells of pot, piss, and alcohol were overwhelming, and it took everything Stan had to keep his oversensitive stomach from retching. Well, at least he tried.

"BLEAUGH! Ahh, sick." He turned his head away from the little puddle of vile and got comfortable against the soft surface he'd been leaning on until his stomach had decided to betray him.

"Ge' offa me…you jus' puked, thz gross dude..." A sleep induced slur made the voice a little difficult to understand at first, but what kind of friend would forget what their super best friend's voice sounded like?

"Kyle?" He sat up and looked into the half lidded eyes of his lifelong friend.

"Who else, now get offa me, yer breath _reeks_, dude!"

Stan obliged, he could tell that Kyle was pissed and he didn't want to make things worse. "You know where we are?"

Kyle sighed, as if explaining their situation would be tiring and troublesome. "Remember that gang of sixth graders that bullied us in elementary school?"

"I thought they went off to college?"

"Yeah, so did I."

"Y-You awake now, Stan?" Butters piped. He was furthest from Stan, followed by Cartman who was wedged between Butters and Kyle, the three were equally displeased.

"Oh FINALLY. I can talk to someone other than the fag and the Jew. Oh wait, I just mentioned Kyle twice..."

"Shut up Fatass! No one _wants_ to talk to you, anyway."

"Guys, guys. This isn't the time for that. We need to find a way to get out of here." Always the levelheaded leader, Stan wiggled around a bit, trying to free himself of his binds so he could help the others. Predominately Kyle, he didn't care for the others nearly as much. "Shit, this stuff's coarse. It's hurting my arms."

"That was the point, stupid _11__th_ grader." The grating, nasally voice of…of…shit, what was his name? The group, for the life of them, couldn't remember the name of that big-nosed, self-centered oaf that had scared them out of their wits daily as kids. Let's call him…Big-Nose. Simple enough. The group, only four strong, walked down the stairs, emitting enough smug to create a cloud of it above the house.

"What do you want? You haven't seen us in over a year, we have nothing to do with you." Kyle reasoned. Stan could practically feel the heat of annoyance emitting from his friend's body and sighed.

"Maybe they just want more porno pics of your mom, Stan." Cartman commented, seeming completely unaffected by his current situation.

"You think we want pictures of that ancient floozy? Fuckin' hell, we ain't _that_ desperate."

"But you admit you're still desperate."

"Cartman, would you shut the hell up!? You're only going to make things worse!"

"Shut up hippy! I'll do what I want!"

"You really think we'd go through the trouble of knocking you out and dragging you all the way out here just to point and laugh?!"

The four exchanged a look, "Uh, y-yeah. Kinda." Butters answered timidly.

Big-Nose barked a laugh. "Let me fill you 11th graders, we're getting paid 5,000 bucks a piece to kill you guys." Big-nose and his three buddies pulled guns out from behind their backs, that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and aimed one at each of their captive's heads.

"Are you fucking _insane!?_" Stan shouted at their captors. They'd been in situations like this before, but this time there didn't appear to be a reason for what was going on. Not that _that_ was anything new either. "We haven't even _done_ anything! You're gonna get thrown in _prison! _You're old enough now._" _The whole damn situation felt like Déjà vu. How many times has this happened?

"What I'm more interested is where this guy got 20 grand just to spend on losers like you." Cartman commented, still completely unfazed.

"I don't have to tell you that. Anyway, as for killing you: this is_ South Park_, moron. Do you really think anyone's gonna notice if four kids, who have gone missing more times than anyone can count, suddenly disappear _again_?'

The four of them looked at who would forever, to them at least, be known as 'the sixth-graders' with horror and faint realization. They were going to die. Not like Kenny, but legitimately _die._

"Jeh-Jesus Christ!" Butters exclaimed, eyes bulging in fear.

"Well damn, we're pretty fucking screwed, aren't we?" Cartman's voice shook a little and his eyes started bugging. "looks like you finally get to go to hell, dumb Jew."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, CARTMAN!"

* * *

"'Unhand me! This is a crime against all of Kraageldon!'" Botere translated for her mistress. She was on her knees, looking up into the glowing eyes of her captor, a dark spell keeping her bound to her three companions.

"Silence, _Middle Child_." The cloaked figure delivered a powerful blow with his staff to the side of the young girl's head, knocking her over, but not unconscious. "You will learn your place."

"How dare you hit a Middle Child! And a female no less!" Straaten was furious with not only his captor's behavior and lack of respect, but that he was careless enough to get caught by such a dishonorable group. "What do you want from us? Who are you? Unmask yourselves, you pitiful cowards!" Straaten and Autome, repositioned themselves so they were sitting in front of the fuming Royal in order to protect her from any possible curses. "What do you want with her?"

The tallest, and undoubtedly the strongest of the group, cackled. "That should be obvious, we have been hired to kill you four, and we were promised great rewards for doing so." The small, smoky grey orb that was embedded into the foreheads of each of the figures, the only thing that could be seen on their shadowed faces save for their glowing yellow eyes, glowed a sickly brownish-green color before swirling into a moldy yellow.

"Your highness!" Straaten looked back at the woman he was supposed to protect, silently begging for her help. But he needn't do so; she was already working on saving all four of their lives. Her eyes glowed a deep blue, shrouding their beautiful, green irises. The light was coming out of her body in fits and spurts; the blue appeared almost black it was so dark.

"Useless." A dart of electricity fired from each of the four.

A bright flash of white light blinded the opposing magicians.

Then....nothing.

Only four figures remained in the room.

"Did we get them, Groote-Nusen?" One of the fatter assistants asked hesitantly.

"Of course not, you imbecile! We've lost them!" The main man pulled back his hood and his face was no longer shadowed. Groote-Nusen glared at the spot the four had been in. He crouched down so he was closer the floor. There was a little lingering flicker of what looked like black flame where the Royal had sat, as well as a splotch of fresh, warm blood.

Groote-Nusen grinned, his rather large proboscus scrunching up. His hands started glowing a pale blue and he grabbed the flame, pulling it open until it was big enough for the four of them to fit through. "But that doesn't mean we can't follow them."

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"Any efforts you make...will be useless..." The four triggers were squeezed, but only one shot hit a warm body.

"STA—" A dome of bluish-black light flashed. If you'd blinked you would've missed it, which is what three of the four boys did.

"Did you see that!? Did you _see!?_"

"See what?"

"Dammit, they were _right __**here**__!_ And then this..FLASH! And now they're gone!"

"Um are you sure you..." The three boys looked at where the bodies should've been. "Woah, they're gone..."

"You _**idiots! **_And yes I'm s—" Big-Nose didn't get to finish what he'd been about to say, because they, too, disappeared in a flash of light.

* * *

"—AN!" Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Butters were....I would say sitting but there was no real floor in the room, if it was a room they were in, granted they were _in _anything at all. All of it was very confusing. It was an expanse of what looked like infinite pink clouds dusted with blood red shadows, and the surface they were sitting on was textureless, but clearly flat.

Kyle, now suddenly free from his binds, as were the others, was kneeling next to Stan in a heartbeat.

"I'm alright, Kyle. It's not too bad."

"Stan, how can you _say_ that? Have you even looked at yourself?" Kyle's 'annoyed mother' tone wasn't exploding with fear for his friends life, nor was he screaming at the top of his lungs like a frightened school girl. But he was still quite concerned for Stan's overall well being, which is totally reasonable. There was a dark, wet sopt on Stan's hoodie and it was growing bigger by the second.

"Yeah, looks like it stings like a bitch." Cartman poked the wound in Stan's left shoulder.

"AGH! Cartman, you fat fuck, what the hell!?" Stan had taken a shot in the shoulder in effort to protect Kyle from getting a bullet through the head. Seeing as how they teleported to another dimension, or perhaps a space between dimensions, they weren't quite sure, his efforts seemed to have gone to waste.

"I was—" A flash of light similar to the one they'd arrived in appeared before them. And four figures, practically a mirror image of themselves, looked the four boys straight in their eyes. Straaten locked eyes with Stan, The Royal with Kyle, Autome with Cartman, and Botere with Butters.

"Your highness, where have you brought us?" Straaten asked his lady as he stared into the eerily similar body that was sitting but 10 feet from himself, clutching where the magician's attack had hit him.

The redheaded Royal sighed and stood up. "I have brought all of us...to where we could meet our 'other selves.'"

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**Author's ****Note**

Ok, I know some things are confusing. And I know some references went over some people's heads, especially if you aren't like THE BIGGEST FAN IN THE WORLD AND HAVEN'T LIKE MEMORIZED EVERY EPISODE LIKE I HAVE!!!

...

Which is totally ok, by the way.

...

Anyway. Things are getting explained right now, but it's gonna get epic :3 this is gonna be one of my longest stories, I can tell you that right now.

Thanks for reading!

-PD


	3. And the Other

**Chapter 3**

"Your highness! You can...you can..." Straaten gaped at the Royal in disbelief as he clutched his wounded shoulder.

"Yes, I can speak." The Royal turned to the four boys. "We Royals typically cannot speak the way you can, but you see I—"

"Wahhh! Get Kyle out of my head!" Butters cried. "Make him stop yelling!"

"What's he saying?" The longhaired blonde girl asked. She was the first to go over and inspect her 'other self' up close. She guessed he was kinda cute, but his personality and appearance were both rather girly.

Butters stopped freaking out for a moment and listened to what Kyle was screaming inside his head. _'Someone help me! I can't speak! Stan! Someone! Help me! Help me, please! Someone help, I can't talk!'_ Kyle was writhing on the floor with his mouth stretched open as wide as it could go, his cheeks turning pink as he tried to scream, but couldn't make a sound. He had tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Kyle! Are you ok? Kyle, speak to me!" Stan used his good arm to pull Kyle up into a sitting position.

"He cannot." The Royal had been waiting patiently for things to settle down, but that would've taken much too long at this point. Her and Straaten's other selves were losing control over their emotions and would become dangerous if she didn't calm them down. "You must listen to me, and I shall explain things as best as I can, but it will be brief, for the eight of us are in danger." She had felt their pursuers reopen her portal before she had relinquished her powers to the redheaded boy in front of her. If they did not hurry they would all be killed. She cursed her carelessness.

Kyle had stopped panicking and was holding his head in his hands.

"Kyle, I can't understand you. Try to speak more clearly so I can translate for you." Butters cupped his ears, as if to channel any telepathic messages Kyle could be trying to send.

"They are almost upon us." The Royal warned. "Kyle, that is your name, correct?" Kyle nodded. "Kyle, you need to open a portal for us to go through."

Kyle glared up at her.

"Ah, umm... Kyle says, 'You still...told us...the...why...' Uh, sorry, that's all I got, Kyle. But I think he means something like 'you still haven't told us why' or something..."

"I'm sorry, but we're running out of time, they're surely drawing nearer."

"Wait, wait, wait...you're telling me that this fat asshole is my other self!" Cartman scoffed in complete disbelief. Stan was about to comment on how his other self actually _did_ appear to be a little more 'big boned' rather than just fat when Stan's own other self cut in with almost the exact words he was about to use.

"While he is fat as hell, you're still not the skinniest one here." Straaten finished his quip with a smirk, one that Stan mirrored perfectly.

"Who the hell are you callin 'fat' butt fucker! I'm a quarter giant! I'm—"

"'Big Boned' yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before." Straaten shushed. "We don't have time for that."

Kyle felt a tingle run up his spine, warning him of approaching danger. It felt almost as if there was someone inside of him, sneaking about, trying to cause harm to him and those within his immediate vicinity. Suddenly, and almost without thinking, he summoned energy he hadn't even known was there—it felt almost like it was coming from his sternum, like he was releasing a sort of pressure he hadn't known was building up. His vision clouded over and he saw an expanse of night. It was dark, really dark, but there were glowing white balls in varying sizes: no bigger than a tennis ball, but no smaller than a pea. He could see faint, unmoving shadows of the other seven people he had been with. The logical part of his mind didn't understand what was going on, but there was something like a primal instinct that told him what he must do. He looked amongst the dots of glowing balls. Some were within several feet of his being, while others seemed to be millions of miles away, but he could still reach out and grab one if he wanted. He saw one ball float past a little faster than the others.

'_There you are.' _He caught it before it got too far. It was warm in his hand and he marveled at the sensation of holding a ball of light. Then he felt as if the tips of his fingers had opened and something that felt like warm water was flowing out of them. The light absorbed it, turning pale blue and then slowly getting darker till it became black. He released it and told it, telepathically, to send the four foreigners or aliens or whatever they were to where they were supposed to be. The ball danced towards them, and then exploded into a dome of black light.

They vanished.

Kyle didn't know where he'd sent them, but they were gone.

He grabbed another ball out if the sky; that same flow of warm energy emerged from his fingertips, turning blue and then black like the other one had. This time, instead of letting it go, he sat down where he'd been sitting and released it there. It floated in front of him for a bit before expanding like the previous one had.

And with that, the four boys vanished as well, and just in time, too. Groote-Nusen and his gang appeared in the same chamber, or whatever it was, that had just been vacated, in a pile of angry, thrashing, magic men. Groote-Noosen pulled himself half-way out from the bottom of the dog pile and whipped his head back and forth until he found what he was looking for: another flicker of dwindling flame. He flailed and scrambled, desperately trying to get out from underneath the heavy mass of people as the flame slowly became nothing more than that of a dying candle's flame. HE finally freed himself and lunged, only for the black fire to disappear mere inches from his fingertips. "DAMMIT!" He cried, sending pulses of electricity through the air, messing with the other wizards' equilibriums, making them totter back and forth for a moment until the pulses stopped and they regained their senses. "We were so _close!" _Another pulse._ "_I could practically pull on that brat's curly, red hair!" This pulse was the strongest of the three, sending the other wizards to the floor. But this pulse had been so powerful that it had ripped a hole in dimensional space, something he hadn't known he was capable of, and a group of young men tumbled through the rip.

"—URE! They were _right_—" Big-Nose was cut off when his face hit the floor. He rolled over and placed his hand over his mouth and nose, loudly cursing to himself. "Shit! Fucking hell, man, that fucking...wait...where the fuck are we?"

Groote-Noosen's mouth curled into a horrible, twisted sneer. "Perfect~"

**o()o()o**

The Royal, Straaten, Autome, and Botere all fell out of Kyle's little 'energy bubble' and into a discombobulated heap on the ground. Straaten struggled to pull himself up onto his feet. He looked around. There were trees, with short spiky leaves that were all colored with a beautiful shade of deep green that he hadn't seen in years.

"You guys, look! We're in a forest!" He ran up to one of the pines, embracing the trunk and smiling childishly when the bark scratched his face and sap stuck to his hands and cheek. "The trees...they're alive!" He breathed in their fresh scent. Never in his life had he dreamed he'd be able to see a real, _living_ tree. All he'd seen were the charred and shriveled trunks of trees that had perished long ago.

Autome shoved the Middle Child off of his chest and looked up at the trees before quickly standing up. Autome tried to take a step forward, but his feet stuck fast in the deep sow bank and he toppled. "What is this? This...cold, wet...white stuff?"

The Royal looked down at the snow beneath her and a slow tear made its way down, paving the way for many more. "It—It's _snow!"_ She hugged some to her face, ignoring the sting of the intense, sudden cold, and let her tears melt away little holes here and there. "Maybe..." she muttered, "there is hope."

**Author's Note**

Well, there you go. My third update in under 12 hours. I'm fairly proud :D

Well, The Chapters, from here on out, may be epically (in the correct sense of the word) long. Like...for real...yeah...

*awkward goodbye*

-PD


End file.
